


Change

by Oscarthegrouch



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Betrayal, Bill Graham is a gread dad, Cheating, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Graphic description of food, Hannibal Lecter Is A Drama Queen, Hannigram is the End Goal, Jealous Hannibal Lecter, Louisiana, Love/Hate, M/M, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Parent-Child Relationship, Phone Sex, Pre-Relationship, Romantic relationship in progress, Self-Reflection, Ugh Relationships, couple fights, fond memories, oc female character - Freeform, thoughts about cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oscarthegrouch/pseuds/Oscarthegrouch
Summary: Will Graham leaves his developing relationship (?) for a visit to his home State. He stays at his dad's, enjoys the summer air with him and reflects on his feelings for the exotic psychiatrist. Hannibal doesn't like it one bit.





	1. Willy Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote to: Adèle-Reine, Childish Gambino-Feels like summer, Muddy Waters -Lost on you. I highly recommend all of these songs. Soft, human and twinged with nostalgia and future hopes. The clips are good too. As well as Dead can Dance-Lotus Eaters, oriental creepy and dead like. 
> 
> Warning: Will is slightly OC, Hannigram is the end goal but nothing is going smoothly or nicely.

I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of loss. I fear something is dead.

Yeah, something new is pointing out. Death. Rebirth. The Phoenix and all but it’s still a death and I like my inner world the way it is. Known and secure.

Hannibal, that bastard would mock me. ‘’Does security equates to happiness?’’, he’d ask and, ‘’No’’, I’d have to answer. But I don’t want to think that change is a synonym for better either. That'd be foolish. It comes down to probabilities.

How do you explain to your dad that you’re not a homosexual but you’re still banging a man? I can’t say dating because Hannibal doesn’t date. He’s shitty at it. He’s not too good at regulating his distances with people.

I’m visiting him soon. In two days. Hannibal will take care of the dogs. That’s nice of him. It really is. Especially since Alana is on vacation in Greece. ‘’I crave white, blue and sunshine’’, she had said and God do I crave sun too, but what is it worth without a good dose of humidity?

In Louisiana, in the summer, there’s a point where it gets so hot that you don’t know if the sheen clinging to your skin is from sweat or the environing humidity anymore. I love that. I feel disgusting and feverish. Like an animal. You can’t get fancy the same way you do upstate.

Fuck and I’ll hear the accent again. Maybe some Cajun too. I used to hate it. It reminded me of poverty, rednecks…myself. But there’s nothing like home and nature is something I have missed. I live near the woods, I have seven dogs and I go fishing once a week but it’ll never be enough. I need to hide in the trees and muddy my boots. Need to interact with what we’re all made of: life.

Yeah, life. Maybe that’s why I like the bayou so much now. It’s dank and it still smells of death but…it’s also full of life. When you come back from a crime scene and all you see are roads, supermarkets and stores it doesn’t sit well in the stomach. I need honesty. The bayou is honest: you live and you die. No pretensions. You are not safe and it’s said out loud.

Willy boy’s coming to visit his old dad.

I arrive in the afternoon. The sun is still warming everything but its light is dimmer. Everything is so green and I already feel the horrible feeling of being a helpless little boy and liking it too. ''Comfort of the known'', Hannibal says in my head.

We did anal the day before I left. I bottomed. I think that’s good enough of an effort for a few weeks. Now I can brandish my need for routines like a right.

‘’My boy!’’

My dad sees me climbing down the car I rented. I wave at him and I realize I love the man. My dad, I don’t think about him too much. We never had conversations I’m going to miss. When I see him I’m happy but he’s easy to forget. I put him in a far corner of my mind and don’t think about him. He belongs to another life, another me.

However when I see him I remember everything. And I’m good. I’m comfortable. Maybe that’s why I like dogs so much. They’re silent but present. They talk with their company, not their mouths. They’re awkward and needy but distrusting. Like him, my dad.

I hug him and he hugs me back. He smells like motor oil, sardines and spices. He has an obsession with curry for some reason. Ever since I can remember.

‘’You good?’’ he asks. And what he means is, did you have a safe trip, are you hungry or tired?

‘’Yeah.’’ And that means, I’m ready for business.

He pats my shoulder and stirs me towards the garage. A mess of a place, that manages to stay organized. My last year of high school he managed to make himself a little business. Hasn’t moved since. I asked him once or twice...if he missed our nomadic life. ‘’Of course. But I’m not getting younger and I’d be nice to invest in a small house’’, he shrugged.

He wanted to make his own boat from scratch too and you need to be sedentary for that.

‘’I’m working on something that I need to finish for tomorrow. If you help me we’ll be finishing early enough for us to eat with the sunset’’.

I smile because my dad is so epicurean and romantic at times that Hannibal, who is so polar to him it defies imagination, would have to respect him for that.

‘’What do we have?’’

‘’A new model’’ he spits, ‘’fancy one not wondrous one.’’ He really likes functional things.

I’m wearing a white shirt but it has a hole under the armpit. I know my dad too well to have dressed nice. He’s wearing his shirt opened down to the fourth button. I’m glad to see he didn’t lose any weight. He’s particular about is food. Fish and carrots, rice curry. That’s a month’s menu. He’d make efforts when I was small, made sure I had variety like the doctors said. Made some bouillie or cabbage whenever I asked.

I watch him bend down to hand me the tools and I smile. He’s a good dad.

When you work for law enforcement you realize that you can’t take good people for granted. That you shouldn’t expect them at any turn. They are a rarity. My dad’s a good man. Really honest. That only time he ever slapped me was when he learned I stole nik-l-nips from the local store.

‘’People work hard to get by and you respect that son, you don’t take their labor away from them.’’ He made me go back and excuse myself in front of the whole store. I was real glad when we moved a few weeks later. I never was able to go back there. I was so ashamed I didn’t even go in that street anymore. Took detours that made me late. I cried a lot that day so he let me have them. When I refused to eat them because I felt too bad he pinched my cheek:

‘’Son when I’m hard on you it’s because I want you to understand the difference between what’s important and what isn’t.’’ I rubbed my snot against my naked arm hopeful for paternal approval. ‘’You showed real remorse today towards your bad acting. And I’m proud for that, now take your reward.’’ I smiled like God had taped my shoulder and we shared the candy. I took lime and he took strawberry.

‘’Take care of that section I’ll manage over there.’’

he directs me.

‘’Are we going to have to coat it too?’’ He raises an eyebrow to my question so I nod.

We worked good and worked late. We did make it at sun down. Had a white beer together with lemon in it, ice cubes and the wind blowing between our naked toes, boots thrown off to the side. For a micro second I wondered what Hannibal would think of me like that. So rural. The guy’s a count. He went to Hopkins. Then I remember that I live on the first floor of my house, that I have ‘’terrible’’ after shave and that I always have a stain on my jeans, dog hair on my coats and that I’m still rural, even in town. I hope he doesn’t have farmer boy fantasies.

Damn it.

‘’Cute?’’

I make round eyes. That sly man picks up clues too fast. I don’t really want to talk about Hannibal out loud, but I probably need to...therapeutically.

‘’More the elegant type.’’ I offer. My dad makes a face and takes a big gulp. It fills his cheeks before he swallows loudly.

‘’Nope, they’re too expensive and superficial. I don’t like her.’’

I laugh at his ruggedness. ‘’He makes enough money on his own, doesn’t need entertaining.’’

He freezes, puzzled.

…’’But breasts are so wholesome’’ he murmurs. ‘’And you’re gay?’’

I feel betrayal in his voice. Not because his boy likes it in the ass -not that I really like it in there- but because I had never told him. I smile, because breasts are wholesome. So soft and sweet smelling, creamy and tempting. I love aureoles and nipples. Male ones are so small…I guess if I told him Han's got a bit of m’boobs because he likes to eat too much he wouldn’t laugh.

I suck in my lips before answering. ‘’Boobs are the best dad. And no I’m not gay, it’s complicated.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He puts his glass down. ‘’He one of those that dresses like a girl then?’’ I shake my head.

‘’Nah. I still like girls. I don’t think I like men. I think I just like Hannibal. What we have is very…’’

‘’Special.’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’Well he has a pompous name.’’

‘’He does.’’

‘’Treats you well?’’

‘’Sometimes.’’

‘’Palm to caress and backhand to hit. Southerners aren’t wimps.’’ He sips at his beer again. ‘’Nobody talks to you like a dog you hear?’’

I grab my head. God how do I explain us?

‘’Never.’’

He gets up and picks his glass. ‘’Had a big day. Take anything you want from the fridge. Careful the door doesn’t close well anymore.’’

‘’Night’’ I wave as he disappears in the back entrance.

I close my eyes a few seconds, listening to the insects making a noise from hell. I said it out loud. I’m seeing a man. I kiss him and I fist his cock. It’s natural. Just two consenting adults enjoying their bodies. It’s powerful the power of labels. I just never pictured me, Will Graham, doing it with a man.

Damn, it was weird. I definitely don’t like it in the butt. I grimace at the memory, the awkwardness. I hadn’t gone to the toilet before. It hadn’t occurred to me. God bless Hannibal’s graciousness. I hide myself behind my hands. Rub my face to make the embarrassing memories disappear. I hadn’t told him it made me wanna go. Had assumed it was normal. It had hurt anyhow. I had felt exposed. Felt too hairy, I don’t even know what mine looks like. I kinda like Hannibal’s little star...

Penetrated is a world apart from penetrating. I always knew I was happy I wasn’t a girl. Still am.


	2. Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exceptionnal fast update.

I don’t go to bed late. Louisiana has always felt like a pause. Right now that’s what I’m on. My room is plain. There are no left over plushies or posters from my childhood. Dad’s not a materialist and I take a lot after him. I guess it helps the mind ease itself.

I check my phone for emails before shutting the light. I overlook a lot of them, answer a question from one of my students. I always hesitate being nice to them. They’re like pigeons, they flock. Give crumbs to one, they all rush in.

I realize that I’ve been staling: I have a missed call from Hannibal and one message.

I feel good, I like where I am. I don’t want to think of the outside world.

I’m not a good friend...

I still read it because I’m curious. It reads: ‘’Have you arrived safely?’’ I don’t bother answering, I’ll do it tomorrow. If I type right now he might answer back. It’s not too late yet. And I don’t want to talk, or worse, have a discussion.

I spread my legs a bit as I make myself more comfortable. The mattress his rather soft but still good. I notice that I’m still sore in the ass. The first hour in the car had been unpleasant. The constant roughness of my tissues reminded me that I had been pounded in rather enthusiastically the afternoon before. You’d think since I was technically a virgin down there Hannibal would have been considerate but he’s not as much as a gentleman as he would have you think. He’s quite the selfish type actually.

Probably why I can stand him. Nice people remind me that I’m shitty.

I listen around for eventual noises and decide to masturbate. If you think it’s weird in your parent’s house try with curious dogs. And you know they can smell you too. Made the mistake of not washing my hands once, got the sniffing at it like it was possessed. Never again.

I remove my foreskin and stare at my penis. I’ve never felt self-conscious in front of women. Except the first times of course. But in front of Hannibal…Let’s just say he has one too so it’s different. I spit on the pad of my fingers and rub them on the gland. I came almost right away when Hannibal’s lips had swallowed it that night. His burgundy lips are the hottest thing and the way he looked on his knees, ravaged and sinful was something I had never saw. Made me feel weird, to be so aroused.

I role a condom on as not to make a mess. My nose twitches at the smell but I’m not complaining when it comes to the taste. Hannibal, as a good former med student, wants us to get a screening before we do anything without them.

I think of breasts as I come and I don’t even feel ashamed.

I wake up early in the morning. My chest is sweaty and it’s not from the warmth, the fan did its job. The sun is already outside to greet me and I appreciate that. I know my dad is already up, brewing coffee and listening to the radio.

I don’t bother dressing up. He’s probably in his shirt and boxers too.

Before closing the door I look at my phone on the night table. I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself it’s still early.

‘’Dad’’ I greet him.

He barely nods but pushes a fresh cup my way. I close my eyes, enjoying the bitterness. I miss my dogs. It’s strange being happy without them. I like to share with their mugs. I probably shouldn’t have that many. That’s what I think sometimes. And then I realize I think that because people stigmatize it as creepy. Then I think I should have more.

Hannibal dared to say it was a coping mechanism to my face. I told him it was to keep assholes like him away from me. That was probably the third or fourth time we had ever exchanged.

I believed he had severe masochistic undercurrents then because he still kept coming. I slapped his ass in bed once to prove my theory, it didn’t go well, apparently I was wrong.

‘’Going at the garage’’ my dad says as he gets up.

Guess I’ll have the morning to myself. I stack out the papers I need to grade to occupy myself. After two hours I decide to take a walk.

I could call Hannibal but I don’t feel like it.

People turn around as I make my way. It’s a small place and I don’t look the part. It’s hard to breath because of how hot it is and I’m not wearing any glasses because the sun is doing a great job blinding me. I smile like an idiot when I pass groups of people, loving their accents.

I look at my side only to remember no dog is following by. It’s strange to walk without having to wait up.

I get in a store, I want to buy nik-l-lips.

I wait patiently in the small line, nodding my head at the tempo of the standardized music. It’s not especially good but a bass is a bass. Rhythm is a strong hypnotizer, I admit to using it more than once as a distractor during interviews and interrogations.

I don’t notice the girl behind me trying to get my attention until I feel a tap on my elbow. It’s light, shy, just like the smile on her face.

‘’Can’t resist the childhood urges?’’

She’s trying to make small talk, flirt, but isn’t good at it yet. She’s a sweet blond little thing. I decide to play nice and smile back.

‘’What’s your kryptonite?’’

She brightens at the lack of rebuff. ‘’Oh I don’t know’’ she has a sweet tooth I can tell at the way she eyes the candy next to the cashier. ‘’Probably too many but I should go with skittles, they always brighten your day with all these colors!’’

I don’t know what pushes me to buy a box for her but I do.

She looks like the Sun burst in her hands.

I probably did it because you don’t get a lot of smiles on adult faces like this a lot. I’m rewarding her naivety…

‘’That’s cher, you shouldn’t have!’’ she looks like she wants to grab my arm. I can see her impulsively kissing my cheek. There are some people that are worlds apart: she’s so easy.

‘’Why don’t you show me where the market is?’’ I offer as she pays off her yogurts and juice.

She turns around and nods. ‘’Sure’’, she straightens her skirt and walks past me. There are barely a few inches between our bodies. She seems to be quite comfortable around me.

‘’I knew I hadn’t seen you around, why did you come down here?’’ she tucks a short strand of hair behind here ear and I’m compelled to draw a parallel to Margot. There’s something vulnerable about her.

‘’Visiting my dad.’’

‘’Your mom dead?’’ she sucks in her cheeks as she realizes her straightforwardness. Her eyelashes flutter before she looks down at her feet. ‘’I’m saying that cause’s my pa left a long time ago. It’s just my mom and me.’’

We pass the taller buildings and the sun hits us good, I can see the little hairs on her arm.

‘’No. Same.’’

‘’We’re like mirror images’’ she exclaims and I laugh. Not in a mean way but this girl and me we have nothing in common.

‘’You want one?’’

I hold out my hand and the little orange, purple, green pebbles coolly hit my palm. She looks me straight in the eyes as she swallows hers and I stare back.

‘’We’re not far anymore, what are you going to buy?’’

‘’Melons and ham’’

‘’That’d go great with goat cheese’’ she exclaims.

I haven’t had goat cheese in years, it smells bad, like animal. But I keep the motor oiled.

‘’Are there any on the market?’’

‘’Here nah, no one makes that. You’d have to go in la ville.’’

I nod and we continue walking in silence till we can see fruit and vegetable stands. It’s fairly busy but most people have cleared already, it’s getting late.

‘’Well, here it is…’’ she dances on one leg, shy again and probably expectant. ‘’It was nice meeting you…''

‘’Will’’

‘’Will.’’ She smiles brightly again and I mirror her. ‘’I’m Christal’’

She extends her hand, it feels small against mine, unlike Hannibal’s that match my size. She bats her eyelashes, looking at me as if I were taller than I am. ‘’I guess I’ll see you around…hopefully.’’

We’re still holding hands and I might want to blush, ‘’that’d be sweet’’ I hear myself say. She bites her small lips and finally lets got of my hand to waive.

I start walking once the white stain of her disappears at the end of the road. I’d better be quick if I want to catch my dad for diner.

It takes me a little more than 30 minutes to get to his garage. He’s drinking water, sweaty and bare chested when I find him. He eyes my bag and smiles.

‘’Worked well?’’

‘’How about you?’’

Neither of us answer. He finds his knife when I take out the melon and salted ham. Licking his lips he starts cutting the green skin to expose the orange fruit. It’s ripe and sweet. He discards the seeds on the ground along the metal scrapes, balled paper and lost nails.

‘’Thanks for the food son.’’

I smile at him.

We share our food slowly. Savoring the bites and the contrasting salt and sweet mixture. We share our lik-n-lips, clinking them before downing them.

I had forgotten that being with other humans could be that easy. Alana makes me feel like I’m not enough, Hannibal makes me feel like I’m on a battlefield, Beverly tries too hard and Jack is scared of me. Dad and my dogs. Living in the present and knowing how to enjoy the small stuff.

Like the ache of muscles after repeating the same gesture all day, the strain in the eyes after squinting for details and imperfections, the heat in your shoulders after being hit by the sun as it sets.

We work together again a while. I know he’ll take me crab fishing in the evening, so that we have something fresh to eat.

I probably should text Hannibal. That’s what people in a relationship do right, talk a lot?

I’m exhausted in a good way as I hit the hay. My muscles fully relaxed. But my phone is glaring reproachfully at me. I sigh and pick it up. There’s a new message from Hannibal.

‘’Find yourself too distracted? I know for a fact your plane didn’t crash.’’

I think calling him is a good idea but it’s already ten pm and I’m sleepy. It’s too warm and I don’t want to start thinking. Hannibal always makes me think…

Pinching my nose I press the call icon. It rings and after a few seconds he doesn't pick up, I find myself reassured at the first rings until I fall on his answer machine. I know he's ignoring me. I'm angry. I make an effort and he has to be difficult all over again. Cat and mouse. Cat and mouse. He never stops playing.

The cold beep resonates in my empty room and I find myself saying: ''I'm alive.'' As soon as I press end call I hit the pillow. I feel stupid. ''I'm alive.'' Douche move. Rolling my eyes I type a message, even though I know it's admitting a weakness, that it means that I acknowledge my fault. _Good night sweetheart._

Sweetheart isn't weird. It's oddly domestic but it really fits Hannibal. And his pink lips...God I have a fixation on his lips. His burgundy pouty plump lips. They look like a dark prune, split open, waiting to be kissed.

I'm ridiculous.

I receive a text at four in the morning and it wakes me up. I'm sure he did it on purpose. Hannibal has a fancy phone that allows him to send delayed messages. There's no way he's still up, so I send a message back. Hannibal: _Glad you are well_. You: _Glad you are glad_. At this point I'm teasing him. Because he's definitely pouting and I love to know I effect him. I just hope he'll get over it soon.

I wake up at eight, not because I want to but because my phone is ringing loudly. Of course it's Hannibal and before I can think I press answer call.

''Good morning Will.''

His voice is deep and immediately I get hard. ''Good morning Hannibal.''

''Your dogs are doing fine, so is your lover.'' he curtly informs, and I hear him reproaching the absence of questioning on my part.

''Will he be even better if I tell him I missed his voice?'' I can hear him smile on the other side of the line. Really, it's strange how easy I can manipulate him to pliable sometimes.

''Just my voice?'' he answers slowly.

''Where are you?''

''You want know if I'm in bed naked and cold without you by my side?''

And just like that it's reversed and I am the one pliable and powerless.

''Sleeping alone again was nice. But I missed your body too. I like waking up to you in the morning.'', that's probably the most romantic thing I ever told him and I regret saying it out loud. I can tell by the way he breaths on the other side of the line that he's slightly shocked. I can't tell if he's pleased and I start getting scared.

''It's something you could have for the rest of your life. If you wanted.'' he adds softly. Like the petals of a daisy.

I'd like to say I'm fine with that type of talk but I'm panicked. There's an instant reaction in my body, calling ''No, no, no.'' Pushing away this sudden invasion of my privacy. My cock couldn't be any softer and it's too much. I don't know if it's the distance, the phone...but I'm not comfortable.

I've probably stayed silent too long and Hannibal's disappointed, discomfited voice cracks through: ''How's your father doing?''

I'm confused. I was waiting a prodding on his part. Something along the lines of: ''Should I be worried that your fear of intimacy goes beyond anything that has to do with us?'' but he stuck to banal chit chat and that's weird. Almost as weird as his declaration. I guess he really does miss me. And this too throws me off.

I clear my throat before answering, trying to seem natural: ''We had melon and salted ham. Couple of beers. He's like a William Senior but even more reclusive. With white hair.''

''Distaste for social interactions?''

That's not the reality of it: ''Drama.'' I clarify.

Hannibal's mouth is probably twitching. ''Unlike you''

I smile because drama absolutely defines what Hannibal is. He probably knows I associate it to him too. I do feel like my dad is healthier than me though. I don't want Hannibal to feel otherwise: ''He's not anxious.''

''Of course he is William. People who hide are the most scared of all.'' I want to protest, I've never seen my dad as stressed out. He's laid back. He doesn't get angry. Doesn't speak fast, doesn't stumble over his words or tremble. Doesn't jut his knees or bite his lips.

''Am I hiding?'' I ask, unsure. Because Hannibal has called me scared in the past. It hadn't been a pleasant conversation.

''Yes.'' he breathes. He knows this is a delicate topic because he says it in a cautious voice. I decide not to comment on it. Psychoanalysis is a bad discipline as it is. At distance it takes another level.

I'm not insecure. But I'm wary. Why would he like someone that's scared? Except for the drama. I laugh at my own thoughts.

''Will?'' Hannibal wants in on the joke.

''So, are you?'' I ask changing the subject.

''Naked? No.'' he pauses, and I know he's preparing a blow. ''But I've been stroking myself ever since I heard the first notes of your voice.''

''Even while I was talking about my dad?''

''You are constantly rejecting me Will.'' He is annoyed. On another level. Is that what I do? Am I rejecting him? I don't think I am, it's not personal. He continues: ''Every attempt..'' but I cut him. I said I liked drama but only certain types.

''I was making a joke Hannibal. Don't take it up to heart.'' It's dishonest of me. Because it's true, as soon as he mentions sexual or romantic intimacy I deflect. For someone who hates being psychoanalyzed, I sure talk a lot more while going under it.

He doesn't answer because he's miffed. I probably cock blocked him too. It took a while for us to move from friends, to partners and I guess it's hard for him to accept that the intimacy we've build is not acquired yet. I'm not sure it'll ever be.

''I told you you were hiding, didn't I?''

I straighten on the bed, mad. This. This is what he does, what he keeps doing. I vex his stupid fragile ego and he has to return the pain tenfold. Like a child. I think of something mean to say. _What is there to be scared about? You don't get scared off of nothing_, or _thank God Dr. Lecter's here to save the day, _but that's petty. And Hannibal's already being petty.

''I miss it in my mouth.'' I say instead. And I'm not afraid of confrontation. I'm not evading it. I'm avoiding it because I just need to stroke his ego right now. ''Miss its weight. Miss your salt. Miss how it burns and stays in the back of my throat.'' I can hear his reticence, his slow hesitation before he lets himself persuaded by my words. I lick my lips, ''The ring of your cock is so silky on my tongue that is always surprises my when I slip it passed my teeth... I love licking your cock but you already know that.'' Hannibal isn't replying. He must be too busy imagining and touching. ''Are you imagining the contrast of my lips against your flesh, sweetheart?'' he whines, literally whines at me on the receiver, of course it makes my cock jump angrily. I hear my dad moving something in the kitchen and I'm temporarily distracted till I hear a small voice calling my name.

''Stop touching yourself'' I command. Hannibal has a wonderful imagination. ''Raise your hands, spread your legs. If your pants are not shoved down to your calfs do it.'' I hear him push the fabric down and let myself imagine the dark curly hair tickling his skin. ''I'd bite those naughty thighs. Make you feel the cold decisive cut of my teeth against your veins. Pull at your hair, pinch your skin. And I bet you'd just spread wider wouldn't you?'' Hannibal whines again. It's incredibly hot. But also strange. Because as much as Hannibal knows how to let me take over, he never really does lose control. Usually by now, he would have said something to shock me, to make me drop my power. ''Do you know how strong your ball sack smells, how the wrinkles on the skin feel against my chin and tongue?'' He breaths very loudly, I like knowing I'm doing a good job, like to see that I please him. I let my hand drop to my shaft, touching it like it's the first time ever. ''Of course you do. You've been a little slut lately. Always dropping on your knees and whining for it, sucking at it even after I'd dump my load down your throat, trying to get more, you greedy thing.'' Talking like that strains my cock, and it obviously strains his too because he makes a strange sound. A protest and a pained cry. I hear his breath stagger like he's shivering and I wonder: ''Are you coming darling?'', ''Yes!'' he shouts on the other side, desperate ''yes, yes, yes...Will'' he doesn't say my name anymore, but I feel it on the tip of his tongue, the adoration. He wants to say it more and right now, I'm too hard to be terrified. ''Say my name.'' Hannibal breaths hard, he's still shivering. ''Will.'' I grip my cock harder, fist is furiously. ''Again.'', ''Will'' he relents. ''Again'' my voice strains and my hips buck off the bed, reaching up for nothing, I'm so close, I'm so close, all I need is:

''Will!''

It doesn't happen often. That is cry while I orgasm, but if it's too intense it'll do that. It's normal. Or so I read. I actually cry and laugh at the same time. And moan and scream a bit, it's a weird combination. I feel like I just spilt a river, it doesn't stop coming out, making me buck and buck again, on repeat. I guess Hannibal didn't need to do anything to remind me I'm not the only one in control.

His voice is soft when he finally says something: ''I'm terribly I sorry I missed that.''

I laugh, rough and happy: ''I'm planning on letting you doing that to me a couple of more times, you'll get your fill of my 'o' face.''

''Your imagination is a wonder William.''

I shiver as he pronounces my whole name. ''Yours seemed to be quite powerful too.''

He laughs gently. He's putting his pants on. ''You left me with a lot of inspiration to work on.''


	3. Segmented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that Will and Hannibal are not ''in a relationship'' but that they have a relationship.

I want to ask Dad how it is to be alone. You and your motors. No dog, two friends and a son that never visits. Can I live like this ?

Caus' I'm not kidding myself. It's easy for me. I have a full time job. Impossible hours, stress and that's all I do. All day long. Talk to people.

But when my bones will start aching and when I'll be too old to work, how will my life look like ? Alone, near the forest. I like it. I love it. But I hate it too. Sometimes I just wish I could clone myself. To stay in my own company...must be nice to have a twin.

Of course I can't ask Dad. Because if the answer is that he's depressed, I'll run away.

I've been thinking of celibacy a lot lately. Too much? And Christal too. More precisely her...proclivities. I haven't fucked a woman in what, six months? Should I even be thinking about this, what are we Hannibal and I? We're not fuck buddies. But we're not friends and we sure as not are lovers.

How do I ask him this? _Hey Hannibal is it okay for me to fuck with someone else?_ Is guess the real question is: ''am I okay not fucking with someone else and...am I okay with him sharing his body, his bed with another man or woman?'' What are we together, why does it matter? It matters...it matters because, because Hannibal does. He's not just ''passing'' in my life, not a nice acquaintance, not a life changing lesson. He's forever.

Fuck.

I give myself a good face rubbing. Fuck my brain, fuck this. I take the car and drive straight to my dad's small garage. I'm gonna work myself till my fingers burn and my eyes cross.

Paint, grease, dust. Clanking, small and big. Metal alloys, tools that fit in my hand. I'm in paradise. I lift my head up, my eyes meet my dad's. We both smile at each other.

''Am I going to meet this man?''

Augh, way to break the mood.

_No. Of course not. It's not like that_, is my first thought. I try to picture Hannibal in this foreign frame. To my surprise he does fit. A good chameleon, evolved to adapt easily. Such are the characteristics of the survivors.

''He has a lot of work.''

Dad lifts his eyebrow. _Not very smart Will_, coming from an FBI consultant...

''You're not sure you love him.''

''I do I...'' I protest a bit too fast. Dropping my pliers I sit back from my lounging position. ''I just don't know how and where I love him.''

There's an utter look of disgust on pop's face. He's making me feel ridiculous.

''This is too complicated.'' he whistles, getting back at it with the wires. It's a little moment later that he adds ''Your guy already sounds so tiresome.''

And this. This word. It fits so well. Tiresome. Hannibal is that, just that. Probing, challenging. He's probably not that good for me. Should we break up?

I glare at my dad for getting me back in that mindset. Who gives a fuck about the future. There's only one reality: now.

At the end of the day the tips of my fingers are tingling and my back hurts. There's only one thing I want: fresh crab.

I say so to my dad. I know he's itching for curry by now but luckily there's a crab soup bouillabaisse with some in so we'll both be happy.

I eat a lot. Both of us are ravenous. We even share profiteroles and I get all the whipped cream caus' it's too fatty for my dad. It makes the both of us secretly smile because that's a time old thing we had. Sharing desserts and passing on sweets to each other.

When I went to birthday parties or when we had Mardi Gras in school I'd always salvage some of the candies in my pockets. It's a trade we had. He'd bring me a nice sea glass from when he worked on a fishing boat and all of the chocolates he got from the diners during his coffee breaks. We exchanged treasures at the end of the day. Like devilish buddies.

I look at his tanned skin and terribly wrinkled face. I regret throwing all of the rocks.

The buzz of my phone interrupts the moment. I check the ID, I always answer if it's work. But it's Hannibal. Dad sees the name of the caller. He's watching me expectantly.

I realize I don't want to pick up. Even less if he's there. I don't want him to feel hurt though. To think he doesn't belong in my life. But that's how it has been. Ever since I started growing into a teenager. Things started to segment in my head. Compartments for everything. My dad had gotten stored in a drawer far away from my adult life.

I might be a bad son.

Dad covers up the pain on his face. He minds his own business. Takes what I give him like an obedient dog.

''Can't seem to go by a few days without you.''

I startle as he says that. Hannibal's clingy. Clingy. Only one reason for a person to be clingy is this: fear. Hannibal is scared. It's so strange to hold that power over someone.

I rub my face. ''He's a princess that constantly needs undivided attention.''

''You don't have to be in a relationship you're not enjoying.'' he simply says, ducking his head behind his beer. Anxious of having overstep a boundary.

Words are stuck in my throat. That's not the impression I wanted to give. Was that the impression I gave? But the affirmation doesn't come. Instead I recline. ''It's vacation time'' I simply say. There you go the segmentation: Louisiana is for Louisiana.

Not relationships. Not Hannibal.

The next day, Hannibal calls again, twice. I decide to text him a short message: Can't talk, am with dad. The second sentence I hesitate sending, though I feel I need to. He doesn't seem to understand: I'm on vacation, take it easy..

To my delight Hannibal leaves me alone.

I don't hear about Hannibal for the past day either. It's good. I realize a weight is gone from my shoulders. I no longer feel his prodding mind, his greedy hands. I am to myself, whole and strong.

I have a productive day where I update my class notes, make up the final quiz for the semester. Dad watches me with an impressed gaze from his armchair. He never quite got around modern tech.

We play ping pong at the park when I tell him I need a break. It's terrible, we spent half an hour looking for rackets in the basement and end up playing 5 minutes, bored of our own performance.

I go walk around in the city at night, still feeling somewhat energized and hungry for some adventure. I see Christal again and she's wearing a short blue dress. I guess the way I look at her is quite explicit because twenty minutes later I'm sliding up and down her needy thighs.

_Mhm that's sweet_ I think as I think as I touch her there; it's so wet. I forgot how good it felt. Jeez fuck condoms.

She's silent except for small whimpers, they're fake. She's pulling the sweet vulnerable girl act but I won't say it isn't working on me. It makes it tingle behind my balls.

I give it to her a bit harder, trying to earn a real groan. I fuck her so well that we fall asleep in each others' arms, still drenched in sweat.

In the morning I leave without taking breakfast. I do have a coffee with her but I take my distances. It's not that I'd be against a second round, it's just I know how it gets after you eat with your one night stands.

It's still early in the morning and I decide to eat breakfast out. I text dad to tell him I'll be home soon, ignoring the text messages from Hannibal. The guy doesn't get a hint.

The busboy looks at me quite a lot. I do look cute with my hair all ruffled up and my shirt sleeves rolled up because of the heat. He keeps checking my forearms and I keep checking his perky little ass. Once I'm done with my eggs, I fuck him next the back door on his break, he's smaller than Hannibal so I need to bend my knees while he stands on his tip toes, I like the power imbalance. He makes little whimpers as I take him, he's obviously enthusiastic and I'm having a blast. I love every second I get in his greedy hole.

I go back to bed straight afterwards. It's a strange day. I feel like a different person. Like I'm no longer Professor Will Graham. Yet I'm not sure what it does mean to be him. I guess the routine in Virgina had me forget I still had freedom, still had a choice. That's a feeling to behold. I open the window and spread my arms. That's what I'm talking about.

I work a bit, write some new slides, include a few links. I see on my skype notifications that Hannibal has called twice. Once during my absence and once while I was working. ''I have a surprise for you ;)'' is the caption he sent in hopes to entice me. Little does he know I had all the fun I needed today.

Since I didn't help my dad at the shop, I make dinner, rice-curry (what else?) and some riz-au-lait. I do some cleaning up too so that he won't need to do it tomorrow morning. When he comes home, the table is set I even put a candle, he rolls his eyes at me.


	4. Staying ''Away'' from Hannibal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite short :/

''You've been with someone... I hear it at the sound of your voice.'' he accuses. ''Missed being with women?''

''Yes'' is my uncomplicated answer. No need to also tell him about the busboy.

''Not that this is an issue, Alana and I had a nice date yesterday.''

Bastard. ''I fucked them, I didn't take them out on a date!'' I'm outraged. Not because he was with someone else but because it was Alana, the girl I never managed to get. Just a teasing kiss and lingering looks as she watched me work but always slipping through my fingers.

''Them?''

''Cute busboy'' I cut.

''Well. I see you've been quite busy William.''

''Mmh got lots of fun. Great sex. Specially that wet pussy.'' That's low and cruel. Just where it hurts, what he'll never be able to give me.

''If I had you right here, right now I'd slap you for you impudence you filthy whorish boy.''

And we'd have lots of angry make-up sex I think as my dick bulges in my pants. I squeeze it with the palm of my hand, waiting for more but it's not what I expected. He takes longer to continue.

''I think it's best if we stay out of touch till you come back William.'' he says in a softer voice...and he hangs up. No warnings. Not giving me the choice. I call back, immediately, this is not how it's supposed to go. We're just fuck buddies for Christ's sake.

Hannibal doesn't pick up the phone. I try a second time then a third until I realize that all I can do is try later or leave a vocal message. My voice is shaky. He did say ''till you come back.'', this is not a goodbye. It's not over. I cling unto that knowledge. Oh God, it's beeping.

''Hannibal it's me. Just'' I hang up. What should have I said? We're not in a relationship? It was just a slip?

How do I fix this without promising the moon? Hannibal's never been hurt by me. Cause that's what he is, no mistaking that. Angry, frustrated, sure. Hurt? I don't know...Hannibal's mostly in an ivory tower, unseizable. When does he ever get hurt?

I'm in Louisiana, on vacation, I shouldn't be anxious about anything.

Surprisingly I deal with this like a teenager. I call Beverly. Alana would be disappointed in me, Margot wouldn't comprehend the drama, Frederick would be too gleeful about the trouble in paradise.

''I need relationship advice.'' I state straightforwardly. ''Nice to hear from you Graham. What did you do?''

''Why are you assuming it's on me?''

''Because if Hannibal had done something wrong you would have dumped his ass.''

That's fair. I tell her so and she chuckles: ''You called the right person. I'm smart.''

''I had sex with other people and he knows it.'' There's silence at the end of the line at my admittance. I'm scared that she'll hang up because of how long it takes for her to answer.

''Do you want to keep doing that ?'' She explicits after a silence on my part : ''sleeping with other people. Aren't you guys fuck buddies anyway?''

''Exactly !'' I protest.

''Then why is he upset ?'' she sighs.

''Because he's a controlling bastard that needs to have and possess every inch of my existence.''

''Then leave him.''

I make a strangled outraged noise that I myself wasn't expecting. Beverly sighs even louder. ''Graham you want the milkmen, the milk and the change ?''

It's not true, I'm not so vain, that superficial. It doesn't ring right. I'm not a fuckboy, I can't be.

''How did you feel, when Hannibal learned about it ?''

Ah, this might be the central question. Beverly's so smart. I realize with a sense of shame that I felt gleeful. ''I felt proud.''

''Sadistic now ?''

''I'm not a sadist, I just enjoy shoving Hannibal's pride up his ass.''

''You know you could've done that by telling him you find his ties ugly.'' I dislike the humor she puts in her voice. This is serious. Our relationship is in danger. ''I don't believe this act was displacement Will. What incites people to attack first ?''

I don't answer. It doesn't mean I don't understand where she's coming at.

''Those who are scared of being stricken. You're scared shitless of Hannibal; shit, are you in love ?''

I set the phone down as soon as I hear that forbidden word. I didn't hang up. I almost did. ''So I fucked two people because I wanted to gain a sense of self, a sense of freedom ?''

''Commitment and trust issues...the whole package.''

It unsettles me, that Hannibal would have so much power over me. That I'm the one being the child here, that he isn't at fault. I'm a bad lover.

Beverly sighs, ''I'm going to hang up and you're going to think about what you want in the reality you can have.''

Beverly clicks the phone and it's Saturday. I'm leaving tomorrow. I'll be in Virginia, out of Louisiana. My heart skips a beat. I panic.

The sweet smell of humidity, gas and earth fill my nose for the last time. I'm packed, the motor is running. I waive at my dad before closing the door and driving off away from my childhood.

The more I approach the airport, the more I feel myself slipping into my role. My fingers tense on the wheel and my eyebrows knit in anticipation of unsavory thoughts that won't come. I force myself to look around. I'm not at Quantico, I'm on my free time.

It's with bitterness that I pass the gates and wait to board on my plane. I avoid looking at people. I'm sour and I want to stay that way. I didn't want to leave, I don't want to grow up, get back there where I have responsibilities other than cleaning after myself.

There are no movies on this economical flight so I dose on and off. I'd better do so anyway I have an 8:30 class Monday.

It's late in the evening when I'm back in my car, it smells of dog hair and I smile for the first time today. I know they're waiting for me and I know how they'll great me. It'll be hell to prevent them from jumping on my bed and sleep with me for the next few days.

I have barely fifteen minutes left in the car when I have an incoming call from Jack. I pick it up, because the man will call back an hour later or worse, will disrupt my classroom. He knows where to find me, always. If he weren't so dominant he'd be a good dog I grin to myself.

His voice floods the car : ''Will, welcome back. Sorry to bother you so late, I hope you had a pleasant trip.''

''What is it Jack ?''

''I have crime scene pictures I need you to take a look at tomorrow morning. I faxed them to you. I'll come after your 8am to have a discussion.''

I arrived an hour ago and I'm already back in business. More than overwhelming, it's reassuring to know that things don't change when I'm away.

I'm finally here. I front of my two story white house. I hear the barking, it's terribly loud. That's what you get when you have seven healthy dogs.

I carry my luggage on the door step and am careful of setting them on the ground and stepping aside as I open the door. I let them rush at my feet and jump around, I bend my knees so that the small ones can get closer. It's a good mess that never fails to make me smile. I grin as I call them by there names each and every one of them.

My house doesn't smell stale. Hannibal must have aired the rooms as he came to feed the dogs. Even though it's cold (at least for someone who just traveled up North) I leave the door open for them to walk around outside.

I'm too tired to take them on a walk or play. I open the fridge, resolved to eat a chicken sandwich when I see Hannibal's Tupperware.

It knocks the breath out of me...I hold onto it as if it were some precious gem. I know he left it today, the dogs were fed already. He cooked for me. Again. The strange sensation in my lower regions is arousal. I took me some time to realize and admit but Hannibal caring for me makes me actually hard.

I groan and microwave it, wondering if this means all is forgiven.

It's duck magret, peppered and salted with a porto sauce, mango and figues on a bed of rice. I savor each portion, eat ravenously every bite, lick the plate clean, as well as the fork and knife, all the while maintaining a strong and proud erection.

''I thoroughly enjoyed every bite'' I text him.

He replies with a simple : ''good.'' that makes me ache. I don't want to call him, don't want to be needy and beg him to come over so that he can take my hole and make me jizz in my dirty bed sheets.

I try to be a good dog owner and spend some more time with my dogs. I pet them and brush them, search for ticks and give them treats before going to bed.

I refuse to brush my teeth, I don't want the taste out of my mouth. Once my boys and girls have quietened down I do what I never did before. I get up and unroll a condom on the handle of a small tool, lube it and fuck myself blind on it, plant it deep in my ass while I rut my cock against the sheets, moaning Hannibal's name like he's hear and he's going to take care of me.

The next morning I wake up with the handle still up my ass, my hole burning and a fat sense of shame as I watch my dogs eye me from the corner of their too human eyes.

I gently slip it out and push the condom off, awkwardly covering myself in a bathrobe because of the cool morning temperature. I throw the condom in the thrash and hide the tool deep in my tool box, under a lot of crap, wondering why I thought it had been a good idea.

Hannibal had also prepared a Tupperware for the morning. This time I'm not aroused, rather mad. I'm sure it's his way of manipulating me. Making sure I think of him every waking hour of the day. He has too much power over me. I don't know if it's love like Beverly put it but fundamentally she was right. I'm terrified of Hannibal Lecter's power over me.

End


End file.
